


Better Than That

by noodlecatposts



Series: ACOTAR Tumblr Requests [4]
Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, First Date, Tumblr Prompt, background feysand
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:01:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22518172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodlecatposts/pseuds/noodlecatposts
Summary: Cassian shows up late for their date.Prompt driven fic about when Nesta and Cassian first start dating. Modern au.
Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Cassian
Series: ACOTAR Tumblr Requests [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1612852
Comments: 23
Kudos: 110





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for flooding your inboxes, loves! I started filling prompts to celebrate a follower milestone, and it turned into a whole thing! Not that I'm complaining. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 35\. An awkward kiss given after a first date.  
>  _I fudged the prompt a little, but things definitely are awkward for Cassian. Poor guy!_

This was the worst first date Nesta has ever been on.

He'd shown up so late that Nesta thought she'd been stood up. A ridiculous and offensive thought considering how long and hard Cassian worked to get her to even agree to go out with him—for appetizers and a drink. Just one.

Just as Nesta gave up and paid the tab—two glasses of wine, which broke her own stipulations for the evening, but she didn't want this outfit to be for nothing—Cassian stormed the building, soaked to the bone from the rain outside and wearing the ugliest shirt she'd ever seen in her life. Their eyes met across the room instantly, like the opposite sides of two magnets. Nesta sent her best glower in his direction and shrugged on her coat. He was too late; she'd already decided to go home.

"You're late," she snarled when he dared to approach her and offer her that charming, apologetic smile. "I'm going home."

"You haven't had anything to eat yet," Cassian pointed out. Each of them silently recognizing what that represented. She waited for him. Waited to eat with him. For nearly two hours.

"Besides, it's fucking pouring outside," Cassian gestures to his soaked clothes, and Nesta wrinkles her nose at the sight of him. "If you leave now, you'll ruin that dress."

A play at her vanity. It works; so, she defends herself the only way she knows how. "You smell like a wet dog. You'll ruin my appetite."

Cassian grins.

He manages to convince her to stay a little longer, to let him buy her that drink and whatever she wanted from the menu. She picked the most expensive item she could find, just to piss him off, but Cassian only flashed her a daring smile and ordered the same.

The conversation was stilted, Nesta wasn't very forthcoming—of that, she was well aware of. However, she was in a bad mood, wasn't going to make this very easy for him. Cassian handled her barbed words with grace. His own way of telling her he was sorry, of trying to make it up to her.

The rain clears up by the time by the time dinner is over. Cassian helps her into her coat this time, and Nesta asks him about his shirt.

Cassian ducks his head, and Nesta catches sight of the faintest blush dusting his cheeks, deepening his complexion.

"I spilled coffee all over myself on the way to work this morning." His gym, the one he owns. "This is what I had in the bottom of my locker. I was going to go home and change before tonight, but... As you can see, that did not work out."

Nesta snorts, but she doesn't ask any more questions. Cassian tells her about his day, little anecdotes about some of his clients, his family; Nesta listens, learns that he was late because he offered to walk a friend home in the dark. The rain started on his way back, soaked him through. It's something that would have ruined Nesta's entire mood, even just recounting it to her after the fact, but Cassian shrugs, tells the story with a wry smile, and an apology in his eye.

"I'm sorry I made you think I was standing you up," he says as they draw near her apartment building. Nesta gives him a look, but Cassian pays her no mind.

"You'll just have to make it up to me." It a challenge. A smile plays at his lips.

He leans in close, eyes locked with Nesta's. "And how would I go about doing that?"

She's surprised by how the fire in his expression makes her heart race. She has to swallow before she can speak, her mouth is so dry. "You tell me."

Cassian bites his lip, eyes falling to her mouth.

Nesta waits until he is a breath away to step back, summons her most incredulous voice, and asks, "What do you think you're doing?"

Cassian falters, eyes opening wide. He nearly falls to the sidewalk. Nesta smirks and watches as he turns bright red, and then she begins to walk away.

"You were nearly two hours late," the woman calls over her shoulder as she heads for the entrance to her building. Cassian's laugh is disbelieving. "You'll have to do better than that before you get to kiss me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 15\. A fierce kiss that ends with a bite on the lip, soothing it with a lick.   
> 25\. Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, these kids are hard to write terribly fluffy, but hey, that’s what we love about them right? Nesta and Cassian’s first kiss ahead.

The second date goes better, Nesta thinks.

For starters, Cassian shows up on time—early even; although, he still isn't as early as Nesta. She's the kind of person who believes in that old, familiar mantra: _early is on time, and on time means late_.

He practically bursts through the doors of the little coffee shop they are meeting at, dressed exponentially better than the last time. Nesta takes the opportunity to admire him while he searches for somewhere to sit, the way the tight black shirt fit his muscled torso and the way his long hair hung in waves. She’s never really liked long hair on a guy before, but Cassian is different.

And brave, she thinks, when her date finally notices her, face contorting in a bold grin. Nesta’s hackles rise as she watches the man in question swagger over to her, something smart to say resting on the tip of his tongue. She decides to cut him off, beat him to the punch before he can say something to embarrass her, call her out.

“Nice of you to make it,” she growls, and Cassian’s pleased expression falters. It fills her with a little guilt to watch that mischievous glint in his eyes fade away, panic taking its place as he checks his phone in a hurry, verifying the time.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters under his breath. The phone lights up, and Nesta smirks as he takes a double-take; Cassian frowns at her. “That was mean, Nesta Archeron. I thought I’d managed to lose half an hour of my life.”

Nesta hides her smile behind her coffee cup. Cassian eyes the nearly depleted drink and grins the kind of smile that has her looking forward to the next hour or so, even as she longs to slap the look right off his face.

“Someone was excited to see me,” he purrs, eyes twinkling again. “How long have you been waiting for me, Sweetheart?”

“Maybe I just needed to get a headstart on my caffeine intake,” Nesta suggests, taking another sip of her drink for emphasis, “to be able to put up with your sterile conversation.”

Cassian’s face turns predatory; it makes her pulse race. Yet, that doesn’t stop her from sitting up straight and staring him down when Cassian leans into her space, one hand on the small table and the other on the back of her chair. He towers over her like this, face in hers; she thinks she kind of likes it. The challenge.

“Trust me, Nesta,” he purrs, voice low and rough and full of promise. “There’s nothing _sterile_ about me.”

He’s gone before she can think of anything intelligent to say, which is probably for the best. It gives Nesta the time to cool the heat in her cheeks, calm her racing pulse. They’ve been dancing around one another for months now, but that was definitely a first for them. Cassian's gotten bolder lately with his remarks, and their arguments are laced with even more tension. Nesta wonders if it doesn't have something to do with how she left him hanging after their last date.

Cassian returns shortly with two cups. He sets one down in front of her, and Nesta eyes it warily before taking a sip. An Americano, her order.

Cassian snorts at her surprised expression, “I pay attention, Nes. Don’t worry, I didn’t poison it.”

“I can smell the sugar in yours from all the way over here,” Nesta scowls at him, but Cassian just smiles.

“Would you like a taste?” There’s something suggestive in Cassian’s tone that tells her he’s not really talking about the coffee. She scoffs at him to hide the heat in her veins.

∙

He insists on walking her home again, which Nesta just finds ridiculous; she perfectly capable of getting home on her own. Cassian, however, is just a stubborn as she is. The man tells her flat out that Nesta can either let him walk her back, or she can talk down the cops when someone reports him for stalking after a beautiful woman in the dark.

“I guess we’ll have to schedule our next date around your visiting hours,” Nesta tells him, spinning on her heels and leaving him behind. Cassian’s long stride catches up to her quickly.

“Does that mean I get another date?” His smile is boyish, shy, and it warms a place in Nesta’s heart that’s been dark for too long.

The skies open up without warning before Nesta can figure out what to say back to him. The easy answer would be yes, but Nesta isn’t known for taking the easy way in anything she does.

“Ugh! You’ve got to be kidding me!” she yells as the rain pours down on them. The weather was clear, beautiful all day; this storm has come out of nowhere, clearly intent on ruining her evening.

Cassian barks a laugh, undisturbed by anything; she’s learned that he can roll with the punches in a way Nesta’s never managed to recreate. It bothers her when her plans get messed up; she fixates on little details and lets it ruin her mood for the rest of the day. Nesta scowls at his good humor, but Cassian just tugs her by the wrist under the nearest awning with a fond smile.

Nesta follows after him, eager to be out of the storm; they hide underneath the entrance of some business, closed for the evening. Water drips from the hair plastered to Nesta’s face. Cassian chuckles at her disgruntled expression, reaches out, and wipes the hair back from her eyes; she surprised by the kindness in his touch and the softness in his eyes. Gone is the sly glint in his eye, the lazy smile.

Nesta doesn’t know this Cassian, but she’d like to.

“Can I kiss you?” Cassian asks as he wipes raindrops from her cheek. His expression tells her he learned his lesson last time when Nesta left him gaping outside her apartment.

Nesta bites her lip, eyes him carefully. Every instinct in her is telling her to push him away right now, say something scathing and hurtful, and flee the scene, but Cassian looks so open in this moment, soft and sweet. So, she takes his t-shirt in her hands and yanks him down for a kiss.

A strangled noise of surprise escapes Cassian when her lips meet his, and Nesta smirks a little into the kiss, happy to catch him off guard. He cups her face with his hands, and tilts her face upward to deepen the kiss, make it better. It’s a good kiss, hot and deep, and Nesta moans at the feeling of his tongue in her mouth. Cassian laughs a little, happy yet smug, so Nesta digs her teeth into his bottom lip and pulls away with a lick.

Cassian follows after Nesta in her retreat, not finished kissing her, but Nesta takes a step away from him, putting distance between them. The hunger in his eyes hits her hard, and Nesta flashes him a dangerous smile. The rain has lightened up while they were distracted.

“Well, are you going to walk me home or not?” Nesta teases, backing away from him.

Cassian follows after her on instinct, a pleased smile on his face, “Yes, ma’am.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 27\. Kisses exchanged while one person sits on the other’s lap.  
> 50\. A kiss, followed by more that trail down the jaw and neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Please note the rating change. Chapter contains nsfw/mature content. Thanks!**

Nesta doesn’t let him come inside on the third date.

It’s too cliché like she owes Cassian something for going out with him for that magic number three. However, at the end of the date, Nesta does let Cassian pin her up against the wall of her apartment building for one of the best kisses of her life. Not that she’d ever tell him that.

It’s rough and hot and dirty, and Nesta has to pull away before she can change her mind and drag the man upstairs with her to find out what else Cassian can do with that smart mouth of his.

“Good night, Cassian,” Nesta tells him, voice wrecked despite her best efforts not to look affected.

“Night, Nesta,” he all but growls at her, eyes burning with heat. The appraising look Cassian gives her as she walks away makes Nesta dizzy, and she actually trips over the first step of the stairs inside—thankfully out of sight of Cassian.

On the fourth date, she’s too pissed at him to even dream of inviting him inside. They get into one of those fights that makes the server afraid to come to their table, and Cassian pays with cash so they can take their argument into the street, yell at each other for real, while he walks her home. Nesta and Cassian argue every step of the way across town.

“Oh, fuck you!” Nesta swears at him as she marches away.

Cassian’s laugh is hateful. “If only you would!”

She slams the door in his face, and he laughs. Cassian sends her a cactus the next day with a note that said it was the only thing that could survive in hell with her. Nesta submits his phone number to a spam website, and Cassian spends the next week fielding calls from people trying to buy things from him on Craigslist.

 _You wouldn’t know anything about this, would you?_ Feyre texts Nesta.

Nesta responds with: _Tell him I would like to buy another cactus._

Cassian calls within the quarter-hour to apologize, and Nesta receives flowers at the office the next day. Tulips. Her favorite.

-

The fifth date… goes much better than she expected.

“Want to come inside?” Nesta asks him on the fifth date, eyes innocent, smile devilish.

“Nes…” Cassian says careful, eyes dark with hunger.

Nesta rolls her eyes at him, “Relax, it’s fucking freezing out here.” She sharpens her gaze with a challenge, “Don’t expect to get to fuck me because I invited you inside.”

Cassian’s eyes shine with amusement, “The only thing I’ve learned to expect from you is the unexpected, Sweetheart.”

“Good,” Nesta leads him inside.

“Your place is nice,” Cassian tells her once inside, and Nesta can’t fight back the snort that escapes her. He raises a brow at her in a challenge, but Nesta doesn’t say anything in response.

“Take a seat,” she tells him. “I’ll go find something to drink.”

Thanks to the open floor plan, Nesta can watch Cassian from the kitchen while she hunts down the bottle of wine she wants. Her date flops onto the couch without inhibition, kicking out his legs and folding his hands behind his head. Only Cassian could be so comfortable in a new place right away; Nesta always feels out of sorts in a new location. It takes her a while to warm up to new spaces.

But this is her home, somewhere she feels very safe, and to Nesta’s surprise, Cassian’s presence doesn’t detract from that ease. She kind of likes having him there, sprawled out on her couch like he belongs. It certainly helps that Cassian looks very handsome tonight, cleaned up for their date.

After their disaster of a first date, Cassian always looks nice for their dates. In retrospect, Nesta feels a little bad for making fun of him, hopes she didn’t make him too self-conscious.

“I always kind of pegged you for a red type of girl,” Cassian tells her when she arrives with the wine. “Like drinking the blood of your enemies.”

Nesta laughs at that, unprepared. He’s funny when Nesta’s able to let her guard down enough to enjoy herself. Cassian’s expression is warm, and it’s clear he’s pleased with himself for making her laugh.

“You should laugh more,” Cassian tells her. “It looks good on you.”

Nesta eyes him. She wants to tell him that his words don’t make any sense, but they both know what he means. Cassian is sweet; he cares. She places the wine down on the table, abandoning it, and approaches where Cassian lounges. His sly smile drops from his face, a tentative expression taking over.

Those hazel eyes Nesta likes so much observe her, going on the defense. Cassian doesn’t know what’s coming, and Nesta enjoys keeping him on edge.

He sucks in a breath when Nesta settles into his lap, a thigh on either side of him, and Cassian’s hands rest on her waist automatically. She throws her arms around his shoulders, fingers playing with his hair lazily, and watches him. Cassian’s expression goes from guarded to warm and hazy.

“Don’t expect to get to fuck me just because you invited me inside,” Cassian mocks, but his eyes are already on her mouth. He licks his lips.

When Nesta finally leans down to kiss him, she’s met with fire.

Cassian’s grip tightens on her body as she takes his face in her hands, kisses him with tongue and teeth. He moans deeply, and she smiles into the kiss, tugging on his hair. They kiss like that for a long time, hands searching each other’s bodies. Nesta grabs the hem of his shirt, pulling it up just enough to get his hot skin under her fingers, and Cassian’s fingers slip under the waistband of her leggings, skimming the top of her ass and nothing more.

She groans at the feeling, and then Nesta drags her mouth across that strong jawline of his, nipping and kissing her way to the thin skin behind his ear. Cassian’s hands take her by the hips and pull her body flush against him. They both moan then.

Her outfit for the evening consisted of a tunic and a pair of leggings; Nesta’s able to feel the effect she has on Cassian as she sucks a mark into the column of his throat. She rocks her hips against the bulge forming in his jeans, moaning when he guides her hips, grinding her body just right against his.

“Nesta, baby,” Cassian pants, tugging her face back to his for a messy kiss. He pulls her hair out of the updo she’d spent countless time on, tangles his fingers into her curls, and uses the grip on her to move her head so he can suck on her throat.

Nesta doesn’t mind that he’s ruined her hair one bit. In fact, she gasps at the sensations his mouth creates, and Nesta suddenly feels very, very hot. Reckless. She could let him fuck her right here on her couch with minimal regret. Out of control is what she feels. Something Nesta’s never liked to be. She searches for a way to get it back.

Her lips meet Cassian’s greedily, swiping her tongue deep into his mouth to earn another throaty groan from him. Nesta likes all the sounds she can get out of him, wants to find more of them; she pulls away slowly, biting his bottom lip with her teeth as she goes.

Cassian watches her with heavy eyes, swallowing, but when Nesta sinks to the rugs, crouching between his knees and reaching for the button of his jeans, Cassian hesitates.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to—”

“Have you ever,” she tells him, not recognizing her own voice, “known me to do something because I felt I had to?”

His laugh is a little hoarse, a little crazy, but Cassian lifts his hips and allows Nesta to tug his pants off his waist. She sucks at his inner thigh and rubs his erection through his boxer briefs. Cassian moans something that sounds suspiciously like _Nes_. This is it, what Nesta was looking for, a way to make herself feel in more control.

Yet, as his cock springs free from his underwear, proud and thick, Nesta’s never felt any less in control. She doesn’t hesitate to take him in her hands, pressing little kisses to the head and giving short swipes of her tongue to the length of him. The sounds that pour from Cassian’s mouth fuel her and Nesta loses any sense of inhibitions, of awareness. All she knows is Cassian—the velvet feel of his cock, the salty taste of him, and masculine scent. Even the sounds pouring out of him consume her, and his dark eyes on her face encourage her.

“Nesta,” Cassian groans, but his hands remain locked on the edge of the couch, knuckles white with the effort of not grabbing onto her. Nesta takes one fisted hand in hers, guiding it to the back of her head.

Encouraged, Cassian locks his fingers into her hair, groaning all manner of praise. Nesta hums as she bobs her head; she can tell by the tenseness of his body, Cassian is close. She intensifies her actions, focusing on what draws the best reactions out of him. Nesta wants to see him come, hear him chant her name as he falls apart. Nesta _wants_.

Cassian swears, “Fuck, baby—Nesta. I’m going to come.”

Nesta moans and keeps working him.

“Shit,” his eyes roll back in his head. “Nes, I’m going to fucking come,” he warns her again.

He tugs at her hair, trying to pull her free of his cock, but Nesta has other plans. She twists her grip at the base of his shaft, the part of him not in her mouth, pumping. Cassian’s hips thrust upward, and the grunts and groans coming out of him are desperate and feral, almost inhuman.

He looks down at her, eyes burning. “Is that what you want, Sweetheart? For me to come in your mouth?”

Nesta moans, unable to do much more.

“Fuck!” And then Cassian goes very quiet. He pants her name as he comes, and Nesta drinks him up.

“Nesta,” he groans, petting at her hair. Nesta pulls away from him with a sly smile, “Fuck, Nes, c’ mere.”

Cassian drags her up for a kiss, and Nesta laughs breathlessly. The kiss is languorous.

“Remember that,” Nesta tells him with a growl, “the next time you think of buying me a fucking cactus.”

Cassian’s laugh is a little crazy, but he never buys her another cactus. Nesta keeps the one he got her, though, repots it with Elain’s help. It ends up being the only plant Nesta’s able to keep alive, which Cassian just finds hilarious.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “His ego is so visible; I can almost watch it grow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, this wasn't supposed to be this CUTE but here we are!

“So, you and Cassian, huh? How’s that going?”

Nesta looks up from her overpriced plate of eggs benedict and into Feyre’s storm grey eyes. They’re identical to hers, except for the undeniable mischief shining in them, matched only by the suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. 

Nesta keeps her face unreadable, but Feyre’s mouth quirks to one side, delighted by the lack of reaction. They’ve known each other long enough, Feyre’s entire life, for her littlest sister to know the less of a reaction she gets for her prying, the better the answer is.

“You guys have seen a lot of each other lately,” Feyre continues, hiding her smile behind her glass. Mimosas, Nesta thought, were the only good reason to go to brunch. “Azriel said Cassian didn’t come home the other night until like 2 AM.”

It’s only with great skill that Nesta manages not to blush at the implications of Feyre’s words. Cassian indeed stayed late that night, kissing her senseless on her couch after she got him off. He was very thankful for the attention. Her eyes skim the crowd, looking for him as she thinks about it.

As if sensing her thoughts, Cassian’s gaze meets hers across the room. Rhys and Cassian wandered away from the table a little while ago; Nesta doesn’t know what for. Those hazel eyes shine with the promise for trouble, and he winks. Nesta looks away, blushing, and back towards Feyre’s happy face.

“His ego is so visible,” Nesta says flatly, trying to recover her pride. Cassian has gotten very good at making her blush. “That I can almost watch it grow. Right before my eyes.”

Her little sister is undeterred. “Shit, Nes. You really like him, huh?”

Nesta cuts a look at Feyre, but it’s hard to beat the smile playing at her lips at the thought. She does, actually. Nesta really does like him. Cassian.

Still, Nesta says, “When the mood suits me.”

Feyre is still laughing when the men rejoin the table. Rhys’s eyes glow with affection for his girlfriend, and he presses a kiss to her cheek, asking, “What’s so funny, darling?”

“Just girl things,” Feyre dismisses his curiosity. She’s a meddler that sister of Nesta’s, but she’s also loyal as hell. 

Nesta feels Cassian’s chestnut eyes watching her, and she glances towards him. He sits beside her. An arm tossed casually across the back of her chair. She doesn’t particularly like PDA, is made uncomfortable by it, but Cassian always manages to find a way to meet her halfway on that front. The man would cuddle a porcupine.

She finally gives in to the grin fighting its way onto her face. Her boyfriend looks surprised but delighted by it—this time it’s Nesta that winks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahem. This is basically fucking porn. It was going to be like sweet or some shit, but this train flew right off the tracks. I’ve done better editing, but when writing smut, rereading/revising it makes me all kinds of embarrassed. Lmao, have at it guys.

**Nesta’s muscles are stiff** when the sun wakes her up, the light filtering in through the window and illuminating the room. She stirs slowly, stretching out the sweet ache of her limbs and sighing; she put them to work last night in a particularly rousing battle of dominance with her boyfriend. It lasted until the early hours of the morning, but she won. Nesta always does.

Wearing nothing but a smile, she rolls over, stretching out her arms and reaching for the man in question, only to find the other side of the bed empty. Nesta frowns at the discovery, disappointed by it. Cassian is never up and out of the bed before her; she’s always the first to wake up and always has been.

With a huff, the woman gets out of bed and pads towards the front room in search of him, yanking a shirt on over her head for modesty’s sake. Once, at Cassian’s apartment, she nearly walked into his living room in nothing but her birthday suit and right into Rhys. It was only luck, and the man’s loud laugh, that kept her from doing so. Feyre would never have let her live it down.

Nesta searches for Cassian. He didn’t say anything about leaving early, and he always makes sure to do so. It’s some protective, nurturing instinct of his, to keep her posted of his plans at all times. Nesta often complains that she finds it smothering, but both of them know that is nothing but a lie. She likes having someone to take care of her.

The sound of the shower running leads Nesta towards her bathroom. There’s only one person that it could be in there, and so, she slips into the room quietly, finding Cassian’s discarded gym bag on the floor in confirmation. His absence makes more sense now; every once in a while, her boyfriend gets the insane idea to get up early and workout. He must have forgotten to tell her.

Without further contemplation, Nesta yanks off the shirt she’s wearing and makes for the shower. The air in the bathroom is humid, making her already wild morning hair stick to the back of her neck; she probably looks like hell right now. Yet, the look of appreciation Cassian shoots her way when she opens the glass door wipes away any worries.

“You looking for something, Nes?” Cassian sends her that shit-eating grin of his from over his shoulder. 

Nesta rolls her eyes at him, playing irritated, but she closes the distance between them easily, hands reaching for his waist. She presses her mouth to the skin of his back, and Cassian leans back into her embrace, content and happy with the attention. 

Without a word, Nesta takes the soap from him and begins to wash her boyfriend’s skin. Her clever fingers work along his shoulders and back, massaging the muscles, before working her way down his arms. Then Nesta reaches around Cassian to rub at his chest.

The softest of groans escape his lips as she reaches for his cock, finding it already half hard from her touch. Nesta presses her smirk into the skin of his back as she starts works him, and Cassian braces himself against the tile of the shower, breathing turning heavy immediately. 

Cassian groans as Nesta nips at the expanse of his back, teasing and tasting him. His muscles flex as he adjusts his position, and her teeth scrape along his skin. He reaches behind for Nesta’s body with one hand, gripping her thigh, but otherwise, he lets Nesta take the lead. 

The fist pressed against the wall tells her that her boyfriend is getting close, and the way he breathes raggedly, head bowed, confirms it. Nesta strokes him more quickly, tightening her grip the way Cassian likes it best. His muscles start to tremble with anticipation, hips rocking softly into her hands.

“Nesta,” he groans. The roughness of his voice electrifies Nesta, her skin breaking into goosebumps. “ _Fuck_ , baby. That feels so good. Too good.”

Instead of speaking, she sinks her teeth into the skin of his back. Her boyfriend groans gutturally, and Nesta smirks. She has him right where she wants him. So, when Cassian pulls away from her suddenly, Nesta makes a noise of protest. 

Confused, she watches as Cassian shuts off the water to the shower, yanking the door open so hard that it crashes into the wall. His hazel eyes are wrecked when he looks at her, filled with a hungry look that makes Nesta’s walls clench around nothing in anticipation. The last time Cassian got this kind of look on his face, he kept Nesta in bed for an entire weekend.

Her skin thrums with excitement as he tugs her along by an arm, moving her out of the shower and propping her up on the sink so fast that Nesta’s breath leaves her in a whoosh. Cassian’s mouth sucks bruises into the delicate skin of her neck, biting and sucking his way down her chest. His lips meet his hands where they massage her breasts quickly, and Nesta keens as his lips lock around a nipple. Her vision goes white.

It isn’t long until, Cassian sinks to his knees, spreading her thighs with his calloused hands and rubbing the delicate skin on the inside of her leg. Nesta pants as she watches him kiss at the inside of her knee eagerly. 

Higher. Higher still.

Nesta bites her lip as she waits, but Cassian stops just before her core, those dark eyes peering up at her from between her legs. She hopes he isn’t about to make her beg; though, it’d be fitting payback for the shit she pulled last night. Cassian sinks his teeth into the skin just shy of her folds, and Nesta whimpers, earning a husky chuckle.

“ _Cassian_ ,” she moans or pleads. Nesta isn’t sure. She thinks she’s just about to blackout from anticipation when Cassian’s tongue swipes between her folds. She cries out in pleasure, using one hand to prop herself up and the other to pull at his damp hair. 

Cassian isn’t playing any games. He uses every trick in his arsenal, every bit of knowledge he’s memorized about Nesta’s body, to bring her to the precipice of what is definitely going to be one hell of an orgasm in minutes. Nesta’s barely aware of the sounds falling off her lips; all she can focus on is how Cassian’s fingers are crooked inside her body and how his tongue and lips feel against her clit.

Then it all stops. Nesta’s eyes snap open, and a sob escapes her at the loss of contact, leaving her cold and desperate. Yet, Cassian’s mouth finds hers quickly as he lifts her by the hips from the sink to stand her up.

“It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs into their kiss. Cassian sets her onto her shaky legs before turning her around. “I’ve got you.”

Nesta braces her hands on the counter, meeting Cassian’s gaze through the mirror. His drinks in every inch of her skin, admiring her as he nudges her unsteady legs open. His erection brushes against her folds, and Nesta cries out, wanting more. Needing more. The ache is so strong that she can’t think of much else. 

“I—” Cassian sinks into her slowly, groaning as he does, and Nesta forgets what she was going to say, crying out something incoherent instead. 

He stretches her just right, leaves her feeling full and ready for more. Nesta rocks her hips back against his, urging him to move more quickly. It earns her a chuckle and the slightest slap on her ass; she’s almost a little embarrassed at how she moans at the sting. He’ll remember that.

Then he starts moving inside her, and Nesta forgets all about the shyness. Cassian fits her body just right, and when he reaches around her body to pinch her nipples as he thrusts, all cognitive thought leaves her. It’s all instinctive, the way her hips rock back into his thrusts, how Cassian growls her name and makes it sound so dirty and so sweet at the same time.

Her first orgasm rips through Nesta without warning, making her scream and her knees buckle. Cassian stills inside of her as her walls clench, and from their reflection in the mirror, Nesta can see how he bits his finger to keep from coming inside her then and there; he must want to drag it out then. It’s one of the hottest things she’s ever seen.

When his hips snap again, Nesta gasps in surprise, not expecting it. One arm snakes around her waist to hold her in place, while Cassian’s other hand heads for her clit. He must be closer than Nesta realized based on his impatience; she teased him too much beforehand in the shower.

The noises coming out of her boyfriend are animalistic; Cassian presses his face into her back, grunting and kissing her skin. Nesta can feel that familiar tug from deep within her body; the second time is always better than the first. Cassian knows this, and he likes to make a point of getting her there. He takes enormous pride—and pleasure—out of it.

“Cass,” she pants, glancing into the mirror and catching a sinful glance of how their bodies move together. Nesta can’t see his expression with how he’s folded himself into her, but she wishes she could. “I’m so close, _baby_.”

He groans in answer, hips jerking against her ass. Cassian’s fingers intensify the pressure on her clit, making Nesta swear. She’s nearly there, tears pricking her eyes from the overwhelming sensation. It’s so close that she can taste it.

“Cassian,” she gasps, feeling every tendon in her body tighten. “ _Fuck_ —are you gonna come for me?”

Another unsteady thrust and its matching moan. Cassian’s teeth bite into the skin of her back, making her walls clench around him tighter. Nesta moans something unintelligible, getting lost for a moment, but she focuses back in on him.

“Cass, look at me, baby,” she rasps, one hand reaching for his arm and grasping it with all of her strength. Her other arm keeps her propped on the bathroom counter. Nesta’s going to find all kinds of interesting bruises on her body after this. 

Cassian is way more into the use of pet names than Nesta. Sweetheart and Baby are his favorites; Nesta usually sticks with her boyfriend’s actual fucking name, but there’s a time and a place for everything. The nickname does do its job. Cassian’s hazel eyes find hers in the mirror, pupils blown so wide there’s barely any color left. 

Their gazes lock onto one another, and suddenly words aren’t necessary anymore. Cassian hones in on her, thrusting into her as hard and as deep as possible; Nesta struggles to keep her eyes open as he hits that spot inside her that makes her tremble.

“Cassian!” she shouts as she shatters. It’s the kind of orgasm that makes her lose herself, only vaguely aware of Cassian growling her name and the warm sensation of him spilling inside of her. She rides the waves, body limp. It’s only thanks to Cassian that she doesn’t sink to the tiles of the bathroom floor in a puddle.

Cassian clings to her while he catches his breath, panting into the crook of her neck and rubbing her sides comfortingly. Nesta whimpers when he pulls out; every nerve in her body is electrified. She feels so sensitive, curling into her boyfriend’s chest as he whispers sweet nothings and makes quick work of cleaning them up.

Nesta lets Cassian guide her back towards her bedroom; he tucks her into the covers and circles the bed to crawl into bed behind her. Nesta quickly shuffles backward across the mattress to press her back into his front.

He chuckles. “I’m right here, Nes,” he tells her, wrapping his arm around her middle and pulling her ever so slightly closer. “I’ve got you.”

Nesta hums, snuggling into his warmth and the covers. She thinks she’ll waste the rest of the day like this. It’s not like there’s anywhere else she’d rather be. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: Is that my shirt? / Cassian having a thing for Nesta wearing his clothes / I’m not jealous. / Get a room!

“Nesta.”

Cassian’s gaze is simmering when Nesta looks up. They’re at Rhys’s townhouse, gathered for a family dinner, but Nesta’s boyfriend looks as if he has other things on his mind besides eating. She arches a brow at him in silent question. A challenge sparkles in her eyes.

Her favorite hazel eyes drag their way along her body, and Nesta notes how Cassian’s throat works hard as he swallows nothing. The tone of his voice when he speaks makes the woman shiver with the promise of sin:

“Is that my shirt?”

The realization hits Nesta, and a smile creeps across her face as she absorbs her boyfriend’s mood. Cassian is utterly restless, shifting periodically in his seat and flexing his hands. His face is that of a man starved; something Nesta finds very funny considering he’s anything but after the lazy day they’ve shared.

Nesta and Cassian wasted the whole day in his bed, soaking up every spare second before family dinner; they snagged a few extra seconds, too. By the time Nesta managed to wrench herself free of Cassian’s grasp, she’d barely had time to get ready. She’d thrown on whatever she could find—her boyfriend’s discarded shirt and a jean skirt.

“It might be,” she whispers to him. Cassian’s fingers squeeze her thigh in reflex; his hand having lied there heavily, possessively, for most of the evening. Nesta has to bite her cheek to keep from smirking; it wouldn’t be the first time the couple was thrown out of the family dinner for being “inappropriate.”

“Or it could belong to one of my other boyfriends,” she says, her voice prim. The softest of growls escapes Cassian’s throat, and Nesta loses her battle with that smirk of hers. She nearly laughs, but it comes out as nothing more than a laugh. “Are you jealous of my fictitious _other_ boyfriends?”

“I’mnotjealous,” Cassian mutters under his breath, too quickly to be anything other than a defense of himself.

This time Nesta’s laugh break free, a rare sound that startles even the stoic Azriel. He’s been steadfast in his desire to ignore their “mating rituals” as he so astutely described it. But Nesta doesn’t laugh often, and when she does, it’s almost never so… carefree. Cassian’s brother’s head snaps to them, surprise shining in his eyes.

Nesta disregards him, reaching for Cassian and running her hand across his shoulder in comfort. He’s quick to lean into her touch, pressing his side deeper into hers and laying his head on her shoulder. The man is gone from that position just as quickly as he fell into it, for which Nesta is both thankful and regretful. She wishes she felt more at ease with the PDA, like Feyre and Rhys, but it’s just not in her nature to let her guard down so publicly.

“I’m not jealous,” Cassian says again. This time is voice is more sure of himself. Azriel smirks at the two of them until Elain calls for him to help set the table. Nesta pries herself away from her boyfriend, joining her sister and helping out. Cassian grumbles as she goes.

*

At the table, they sit side by side. Nesta feels most confident with him beside her, but she suspects that Cassian’s reasoning is just that he likes being able to keep that hand of his on her knee. 

Dinner is a friendly occasion. Cassian gets into a riveting battle of wit with Mor, while Nesta catches up with her sisters. Azriel interjects here and there with his own input, and Rhys pretends to be a moderator, secretly fanning the flames.

And then Cassian’s hand starts to wander.

Nesta just barely disguises the sharp inhale when Cassian’s fingers first dip under the hem of her skirt. She spares a glance at her boyfriend; he’s smiling at something Azriel’s just said in that quiet, sharp way of his. Cassian doesn’t so much as acknowledge her focus on him. Yet, his fingers tiptoe north.

The air between them crackles, and Nesta wonders if anyone else can see it. Cassian continues his games, drawing idle circles to the inside of her knee. She shifts a little in her seat to allow him more space. Surreptitiously, Nesta scans the table, curious if anyone’s watching.

Elain has turned her back on Nesta, chatting with Mor about the dress she’s worn to dinner and where to buy it. Mor has forgotten all about her earlier argument with Cassian, and Azriel watches Elain from across the table with fondness. Unlike Cassian and Nesta, they rarely sit beside one another, Azriel preferring the sidelines while Elain works the room. If Nesta is a private person, then Azriel could be described as downright shy.

“Oh, get a room,” Cassian taunts the pair at the other end of the table. Rhys smiles lazily at his brother, an arm wrapped around his girlfriend. Nesta isn’t sure when Feyre crawled into Rhys’s lap, but she’s not all that surprised by it.

“One could say the same for you,” Feyre retorts without hesitation, a clever smile playing on her lips.

Rhys howls with laughter as Cassian pretends to be offended. His hand doesn’t leave her leg, but sadly, his ministrations cease. Nesta feels a rush of disappointment. Elain and Mor are quick to join in on the laughter— even Azriel smiles at the call out.

Nesta knows Cassian is about to say something foolish before he even does. Her boyfriend fluffs up like a peacock, fire in his eyes, and declares, “At least _we’ve_ never been caught going at it in the bathroom at Rita’s!”

“How dare you speak such blasphemy, brother?” Rhys cries.

Mor is quick to join the attack though with less finesse. “Fucking liar!”

“So, you’re telling us that you and Nesta just conveniently always need to use the bathroom—” Azriel remarks softly, a smile playing at his lips. “—at the very same time?”

“I believe my boyfriend said we’ve never been caught,” Nesta interjects, surprising everyone. “Not that it’s never happened.”

She takes a sip of her wine to hide her smile; though, she knows Cassian can see the amused gleam in her eyes. Nesta tucks a piece of stray hair behind Cassian’s ear before tapping him on the nose. The grin he sends her way is blinding. Nobody has anything smart to say to that.

*


End file.
